Of Honor and Allies
by Morgan Lewis
Summary: Do betrayals of the past guarantee betrayal in the future. An anchient Tauren wrestles with his own demons as he attempts to learn more about the new Orc Warchief, Thrall.


Disclaimer:   
Standard disclaimer applies here. I don't own a lot of the characters presented in this story, nor do I own many of the settings and ideas presented therein. I did however, make up some of the characters. But you know what, I didn't go through the labor pains of birth to create them so unless you are planning some kind of bestiality orgy, I really don't care who uses them. (And I probably wouldn't really care too much if you did so long as I don't have to read about it.)   
  
Timeline:   
I picture this as taking place sometime towards the end of the Warcraft Adventures and before the beginning of Warcraft III. But, I don't know how accurate that it is going to be so please keep flames to a minimum.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
Part 1   
  
  


The sun was just barely beginning to crest the horizon in the distance. The thin sliver of gold wasn't enough to completely dispel the remnant of the night but had begun to paint the eastern clouds pink. Darkness still reigned across much of the grassy plains of Taeroth. The moon and stars were still visible as they shone down across the green expanse, which rippled in the breeze like a great ocean.

The journey never seamed to get easier, Gorn Blackhoff mused quietly as his hoofs tromped heavily through the grass. He had made this private trek every morning for the last seven years. Yet each time that he forced his aging body to rise before the sun an plod the five plus miles to Taeroth Ridge his once compliant muscles complained loudly. In his youth he had been capable of waking in an instant from only a few hours rest, then fighting for days on end. Those years of constant strife and hardship had taken their toll on the aging Tauren. Now when he woke his muscles felt stiff and unwieldy and usually remained so for at least a couple of hours. The old chieftain had become more adept in ignoring his body's complaints over the years, but still hadn't managed to blank them out completely.

Other outward evidence existed of the chieftain's continuing battle against time. His beard and mane, once a deep golden chestnut were now streaked with traces of gray. The skin across his snout and under his eyes was no longer as tight and sagged far more then it used to. The sacred totems of his ancestors that he had born into countless battles seemed to weigh a little more heavily on his now sagging shoulders, causing him to hunch more than in his youth. It shamed him to admit it, but at times he even wished that honor did not demand him to carry such a burden in life. 

As he crested another ridge his destination finally came into view. The large rock formation seemed almost out of place among the sweeping grasslands that surrounded it. Gorn knew that at one time the Ridge had actually been a gently rolling hill that had blended in seamlessly with the surrounding lands. Everything had changed with the coming of the great Human Orc wars. This field had been the site of one of the bloodier battles fought between the two races. To this day it was not uncommon to walk the fields and still stumble across the bones of fallen men and Orcs clutching the rusted remains of swords and axes. It had taken him nearly two months to sufficiently cleanse the area at the base of the ridge to the point where he felt it was worthy for consecration. For he would not bury the bodies of his wife, brother, and son in any place that was less than holy. 

Gorn paused for a moment at the crest of the hill, the sight of Taeroth Ridge filling his eyes and a great weight of sadness settling across his weathered shoulders. The sacred totems that he carried on his back suddenly seemed thrice their normal weight. Without a doubt, this part of his daily pilgrimage was always the most difficult. 

"No, it never does seam to get easier," his whisper sounding like the low rumble of distant clouds. "In fact, it just keeps getting harder." No Tauren should ever face the pain of losing his entire family, much less losing them all in the same battle on the same day. Though the Taurens had won the day, it still remained his most bitter of defeats as a field commander. Gorn had decided that day, that he was no longer an asset to his people as a war chief. He had grown too old in both mind and body to maintain the level a commander that his soldiers deserved. It had been time to pass the torch to another, younger and more deserving bull. He allowed his gaze to linger across the grassy expanse for another moment while the ghosts of his past danced across his memory, before snorting loudly at his own procrastination and pushing forward once again. His destination, three finely crafted totems which stood silently at the base of the ridge, was now only a few moments away. 

He covered the remaining distance quickly and purposefully, a worn path clearly displayed that route he had taken many time before to the base of the overhanging ridge. Upon reaching the three graves, he slowly bent to one knee and carefully unburdened his own sacred totems. The totems were swiftly moved in to place, one to either side of him directly in front of the grave of his wife, with a practiced ease. Gorn turned his graying snout to the east where the sun was continuing to shed light across the land. Satisfied that the sun had sufficiently crested he turned back to the graves before him and solemnly dropped to both knees. "Oh great and sacred ancestors, hear the request of your humble servant. Let not these resting places of my loved ones be defiled by the enemy so that their spirits be not troubled until the day of their rebirth as the sun is even now reborn upon the earth. Even so, let that day hasten its arrival upon this earth where all Tauren shall be reborn and enter into thy presence. Amen" 

"Amen," a clear musical voice sounded from behind him. Goon's swift reaction belied his advanced years. In an instant he was on his feet again, great ax in hand and ready for combat. The only problem was, there didn't seem to be anyone in the near vicinity to meet his attack. 

Gorn blinked his eyes once and slowly shifted his weapon to a more defensive position. His hooves slowly shifted backwards until he could feel the cool rock of the ridge on his back. The veins bulged on his massive arms as his muscles tensed for violence. He quickly let his eyes scan over the field in front of him, looking for something, anything that would indicate where the intruder was concealed. Yet, all he saw before him was an unending field of grass, without even a single tree or stone to provide cover. 

"Show yourself defiler." His voice roared across the plains. Yet it was met by only silence. For a brief moment Gorn wondered if perhaps his ears had finally begun to play tricks on him in his old age. At the very moment that he had begun to question his senses completely the first rays of the sun finally broke across the top of the ridge and scattered across the plain before him. 

As the shadow of night retreated from the land a figure slowly materialized in front of him. At first the outline of the figure was indistinct and as ephemeral as smoke. The shape quickly filled in with dark purples, browns, and greens, gaining more definition as the last wisps of evening faded. 

A low growl of recognition rumbled in Goon's throat. "Night Elf, I thought your kind had at least retained enough honor to allow one to pay homage to his departed brethren in peace. But I as you would seek to desecrate even our most holy of places I see that it was folly to expect otherwise of your kind." The chieftain raised his ax back to an offensive position, ready to strike should the purple skinned adversary even make a mover for the bow strapped across her back. Instead she simply lifted one delicate hand and extended it towards him in the universal sign of truce. "Peace Gorn Blackhoff. I come seeking no quarrel with you and have no intention of desecrating this holy place." Far from being reassured, Gorn was now even further enraged by the appearance of this impudent Night Elf. "You seem to know who I am. Then you should also know that I parted company with your kind long ago when you dishonored yourselves by breaking your vows and allying yourselves to our enemies." 

"It was never our intention to break our vows with the Taurens when we joined our forces to the Centaurs." She replied shaking her head sadly. "Even so, I agree that my people are not without blame for the horrors that followed. But even you must see that if your people had behaved rationally most of those tragedies could have been avoided." 

"Rationally!!" the Tauren roared. He could feel a great fire burning behind his eyes, turning everything he saw a shade of red. "The Centaurs have sought our destruction since the beginning of our two races and you expected us to behave rationally while they used you as a weapon to that very end!" Gorn spat on the ground in disgust. "Your rationale is a poor replacement for the honor your people abandoned that day. Whatever your intentions were, you violated every pact that you ever made with my people." 

The woman sighed before lowering her hand to her side. "I have not come to debate the past with you, Gorn Blackhoff. Rather, I have come to you with concerns of the future weighing very heavily upon my mind." She paused briefly before continuing. "I would seek your aid." 

To his own chagrin, Gorn almost lost his grip on his great war ax in surprise. The aged chieftain studied the long-lived Knight Elf for a moment, his still sharp eyes noting every detail of her expression. The complete absurdity of the request was such that for a moment he found himself too stunned for words. A pregnant silence hung between them for a moment before Goon's stupor passed and he started chuckling softly. The moment he began it was if a great dam inside of him that had been holding back seven years worth of anguish and joy suddenly burst. The quiet laughter slowly grew until it was a great rumbling roar of mirth. Soon, Goon's breath was coming in quick snorts through his snout and the long unused muscles beneath his ribs were aching from their unaccustomed exertion. 

"And to think that I believed your race bereft of a sense of humor," he finally managed between gasps for air. "Oh Elf, I do not believe that I have been so thoroughly entertained in ages." He had been forced to lower his weapon from the offensive to use for support as gales of laughter continued to issue from his throat. It occurred to him briefly that this whole situation may have simply been a clever ruse to put him off guard thus making him easy prey. Gorn quickly dismissed this notion however, realizing that even if it were a trick he would at least die laughing. 

For her own part the Knight Elf simply stood watching him with a stony faced expression until his mirth finally began to subside. "If you are quite done?" how she managed to put so much superiority and condescension into that simple phrase he would never know, "then perhaps we can move onto discussing matters critical to the survival of both our people." 

She arched an eyebrow at him in what he supposed was intended to be a haughty expression and Gorn nearly lost it again. Instead, he managed to reign in the second wave of guffaws and responded mockingly. "By all means Knight Elf, after all a few more moments of my time is hardly an unreasonable price to pay for such a hearty laugh." 

She studied him critically for a few more moment, he cryptic yellow seemingly searching for any facet to which she could appeal while revealing nothing of her own intentions. "Tell me Chieftain, do you not believe that the Ancestors of your people often answer your prayers through the actions of another." 

The remainder of Goon's humor dried up almost immediately. Perpetuating this farce of an alliance between them was one thing, but he would not tolerate some arrogant Knight Elf mocking his faith. "You ask questions to which you already know the answers Knight Elf." He raised his war ax to the ready once again. The gesture, while meant to intimidate never the lesser did not convey the same aggression that he had displayed earlier. It was meant to be a warning nothing more. "You have already broken faith with my brethren, do you now mean to do the same with my ancestors?" 

The elf's face took on a look of mild exasperation. "I have told you already that I don't wish to rehash the sins of the past. A much greater threat exists that will surely swallow us all if we are not prepared. I fear a dark future awaits us all." 

Gorn sighed in return; his admittedly limited patience was already drying up with this woman. "I'm not interested in your predictions Night Elf. I already know my future and it has no provisions for one of your kind." 

"Of course not," she responded disdainfully. "You would prefer to live out the remainder of your days in this self-imposed exile, massaging your own damaged sense of honor." 

"What would your kind ever know of honor?" Gorn growled softly. "What I do with my days is my own decision and I will not be condemned for my choices by an honorless Knight Elf." 

Gorn turned to gather his totems, effectively dismissing the Knight Elf. He no longer cared to hear anything else from the violet skinned woman. His appointed task had already been interrupted for long enough and he would put it off no longer. Once his own totems had been securely strapped back in their place he knelt before the first of the three graves and gently began to remove the pieces of moss and grass that had begun to grow up around the totem markers. 

He could feel the Knight Elf's eyes studying him for a brief moment before she moved towards the second of the three graves. As she began to kneel before it, Gorn snorted angrily at her in warning. 

"Is it a dishonor to your departed loved ones to have one who is not an enemy aide in the tending of their resting place?" she shot back with acid in her voice. 

"You presume much in claiming that I do not see you as an enemy." Gorn rumbled in reply. 

She arched the same damn eyebrow again. "You lowered your weapon in my presence, and even allowed yourself to laugh at my conversation. Unless you were attempting to gain my confidence so as to later betray me, I believe in you culture those two actions are more then enough to constitute non-aggression. To treat me as an enemy now without just cause would be dishonorable." 

"Odd that those without honor always expects others to adhere to it." Gorn grumbled quietly to himself but knew that he couldn't really contradict her. These past seven years of solitude must have dulled his instincts more than he had thought. Otherwise he would have never have been foolish enough to make any gestures that could have been construed as anything but that of an enemy. Well, what was done was done, and as she had pointed out, any attempt to turn on her now would be most dishonorable indeed. 

Instead they worked in silence for the next few minutes tending the graves of Goon's lost family. Though he would never admit it, the Knight Elf was far more adept at this kind of activity than he was. They finished the task much more quickly than the Tauren normally did when performing the duty alone. 

Gorn slowly rose to his hooves, secured his great ax between the two totems and turned to address the Knight Elf. "Though you are not a personal enemy to me, your people most certainly are. But disregard my next request and next we meet you will no longer have the protection of my honor." He turned his head towards the sun, which had now completely cleared the edge of the horizon. "Don't ever come back here again." With that he turned to leave. 

The Tauren had only made it the first few steps when she called to his back. "You never did answer my question." He turned to see her regarding him with those damn unreadable eyes once again. "Do you believe that your prayers are often answered through the actions of another?" 

In his youth, Gorn would have already lost his temper by this time. Even now he was barely keeping his anger in check. "I've told you already Knight Elf, I'm in no mood for your games." 

"It is not a game," she responded coolly. "It is a simple question. Do you or do you not believe that we who still live in this realm have a responsibility to help the Ancestors fulfill the prayer of the faithful?" 

The Tauren simply glared at her for nearly a minute, trying to understand the ulterior motive behind he simple question. But his scrutiny yielded nothing and finally he replied, "Yes Knight Elf, it is considered to be one of the greatest honors to be an instrument by which the Ancestors might fulfill a request to a supplicant." 

"And what of your own prayer," her gaze was relentless now. "Do you intend for your Ancestors to fulfill that request by themselves. Or perhaps you are simply waiting for someone else to take care of your request for you." 

Anger and confusion were battling at the forefront of Goon's mind now. He couldn't quite follow the Knight Elves train of logic entirely, just enough to recognize a slight against himself. "Do you expect me to grant rebirth unto my brethren myself?" he growled softly. "I don't know what rumors you have heard concerning the abilities of my people." 

She sighed in response. "I was speaking of your request that their resting places be not defiled by the enemy." Gorn was beginning to wonder if condescension was the natural expression of a Knight Elf. In any case it was really beginning to wear thin on his nerves. "Soon, the whole of the Earth faces a defilement such as it has never before known." 

The chieftain's confusion was fading back into annoyance quickly now. "I told you already Knight Elf, I am not interested in your predictions of doom." 

"It is not a mere prediction!" Gorn was almost surprised as for the first time in their conversation, actual passion entered into the woman's expression. "Even now events are in motion that will unleash an evil plague upon this land. Where on drop of blood has been shed, a thousand more will soon join it. Darkness will cover the skies perpetually, the Earth shall cease to give of her bounty and many shall long for death rather than face the coming horror." 

The Tauren's own rage was growing now and he no longer felt the need to restrain it any longer. "I grow weary of this discussion Elf. You claim a dark future awaits us, but give me no reason to believe you other then your own grim prophecies. You claim that I somehow have a responsibility to avert this disaster but give me no indication as to what I am even to prepare against. Worst of all, you presume that just because your people perceive a threat it is a matter that concerns my people as well." Gorn shook his head angrily as he tried to calm back down. "The fates of our people are separate now. You saw to that many years ago. Now leave me to fulfill my prayers in the manner that I have done thus far." 

The anger seemed to deflate from the purple-skinned woman, replaced with something that may have been sorrow. "No Gorn Blackhoff," she responded sadly, "despite the rift that has grown between us, our fates are still intertwined. The Burning Legion will spare none upon their return to this world." 

Gorn blinked his eyes in disbelief. "The Burning Legion?" he asked incredulously. "That is what all your talk of death and destruction is about? Some ancient legend told only to frighten young calves?" 

"It is no simple legend," she replied forcefully. "My people faced the Legion millennia ago and the confrontation was nearly the destruction of this world." 

Gorn could feel another angry growl growing in his throat. "You've been wasting my time with some children's tale. I have no time for such…" 

"A children's tale!?" she cut him off, her voice incredulous. She reached inside the depths of her cloak, causing Gorn to tense and reach for his ax once again. "Here is your children's tale!" 

In one smooth motion she withdrew a small crystal sphere from the depths of her cloak and threw it at his feet. As the orb touched the ground, an explosion of light burst from its surface. The silence of the morning was shattered by the roaring sound of a thousand fires. The effect blinded him momentarily, but when his vision returned an image of horror stood before him. Gorn snarled savagely, wrenched his ax from its place on his back and settled into a defensive posture. 

Riding on a cloud of soot and fire stood a creature unlike any that Gorn had ever seen before in his life. The thing towered above Goon's considerable size, its blackened flesh and bone vying for dominance with the flame consuming its form. Empty eye sockets regarded him with a gaze that somehow conveyed a merciless hunger for death and carnage. Some part of Goon's mind marveled at the fact that a being practically composed of fire could still be covered in so much darkness, such that it was almost difficult to make out the beast's features. 

"What sorcery is this?" the Tauren howled against the roar of flames. 

"Not sorcery," the Night Elf replied softly as she walked toward him, passing through the beast as if he was as insubstantial as vapor. "Memory." 

Upon reaching him she turned to indicate the malevolent form standing behind her. "What you are seeing are the last moments of Veronos Syliosteel as seen through his eyes." Gorn could have sworn that he saw a mixture of rage and sorrow cross her features before she continued. "These memories have been preserved and passed down among our people as a warning against the dangers that lie in power that no mortal has the right to wield." 

The elf waved her hand and the monstrous creature suddenly vanished, as if it had been sucked back down to hellish realm from whence it had come. An eerie silence descended upon the plains once again in the aftermath of the demon's departure. The dark-skinned woman knelt to retrieve the crystalline orb; all that remained of the beast's presence, then turned to face him, an almost beseeching look in her eyes. 

"I would not wish the fate of my grand-father," Goon's eyes widened slightly at her revelation, "on even my most bitter of enemies. That is why I am a here, asking for your aide in stopping this monstrosity from overpowering us all." 

The old chieftain took a long shuddering breath. Part of his mind still believed that this could all still be some trick of Night Elf sorcery. But that part was mostly being drowned out by the section of his consciousness that was still reeling from the horror of what he had just seen. "I admit I do not know what to make of what has just been shown to me." 

Gorn leaned heavily on his ax, suddenly feeling his advanced years quite acutely. "And even so, I fail to see how my aid alone could help in defeating such an imposing foe." 

The woman shook her head gently. "I do not mean for you to fight this foe alone. But the strength of the Taurens must be harnessed against the forces of darkness if there is to be any hope of surviving." 

Gorn looked at her sharply, realization suddenly sinking in. "You want me to use my use my name to rally the tribes into a common force." 

She nodded slightly in response. "The name Gorn Blackhoff still carries with it a great deal of honor, respect, and prestige. There are many that would take up the banner of battle to follow you once again." 

Gorn sighed deeply. "Even should the spirit be willing, my flesh lacks the strength it once possessed. I could not in good conscience lead young bulls to battle following nothing more than the name of Gorn Blackhoff and the memory of my past victories." 

Something that had been nagging at the back of his mind finally made it ways forcefully to the surface of his thoughts. Gorn turned and studied this Night Elf critically once again. "This entire situation is too bizarre for words. I have never known the Night Elves to admit to their own weaknesses and solicit the aid of another." 

A ray of light from the sun must have gotten in his eye because it appeared as if she had smiled at this statement. "I guess you could say that I have always been a little bit more liberal in my views than the standard Night Elf. Needless to say, my beliefs of the necessity of Tauren strength are not shared by the majority of our ancients." 

Gorn snorted at her understatement. They stood there in silence for a few more moments while the Tauren digested all that had been revealed to him in the past few minutes. The mere idea that the Burning Legion was more than a simple childhood tale was enough to shake him to his very bones. His common sense still rebelled wildly at the idea. Yet, his mind could not dismiss the burning apparition that he had beheld just moments before. 

Converging and conflicting thoughts were chasing each other through his mind now, desperately trying to sort each other out. Gorn could see that the Night Elf was still watching him expectantly, waiting for his response. "You have the wrong Tauren. My strength is spent, and I will not lead my people into a war that I am not capable of leading to victory." 

"You discount the value of your name too quickly noble Blackhoff." Now his hearing must be failing him because that had sounded like respect in her voice. "Just because you can not lead your people on the battlefield does not mean you are incapable of leading your people to a greater good. There are other paths available to your people, but only you will be capable to convincing them of the merits of such a path." 

Gorn felt his anger building again as he realized her intentions. And to think that he had actually even started to let his guard down. "You have most definitely the wrong Tauren!" he ground out angrily. "I will never advocate an alliance of my people to one that had just destroyed centuries of trust within my own lifetime." 

He could see that she was about to say something else but he quickly interrupted. "And if you think to force my support by casting some unnatural charm upon me, I think that you will find that you will find how little the name Gorn Blackhoff truly means when he betrays the memory of his people." The world was turning red again in his sight. But his rage was directed more at himself than anyone else. How could he have been so foolish as to expect anything but trickery from one of her kind. "I think it is past time that you leave this place Night Elf." 

She simply stared at him coldly for a few moments before replying. "If I may be allowed to continue," Gorn didn't have anything to say at that particular moment so she obviously took that as her queue, " I understand that too much has passed between our two people in recent times for a reconciliation to be affected in time." He was beginning to wonder if one of this woman's abilities was the power of understatement. "But, as I said, there are other paths for you to explore." 

The chieftain didn't really feel like hearing any more of this woman's paths that she felt his people should take. In all likelihood, any prospect that she would present would make facing off against that demon-beast seem preferable. He should have left ten minutes ago. Instead he crossed his massive arms across his chest and said, "Go on." 

"What have you heard of Thrall, the new Orc Chieftain?" Gorn blinked at her level tone. Damn, but she was making a habit of catching him off guard. 

"As you put it earlier," he responded coolly, "I have been in a self-imposed exile for the last seven years. I haven't heard much of anything lately." 

"Well then," and there was no mistaking her smile this time, " we're just going to have to remedy that, aren't we." 

"You can't be serious," the disbelief was thick in his voice. "An alliance with the Orcish Horde." But for all intents and purposes she appeared to be perfectly sincere. Gorn was wishing that he had just listened to his instincts earlier and walked away. Well, It wasn't to late to begin remedying that mistake. "You truly are mad, " he muttered while hefting his battle ax and turning to leave. 

But this Night Elf was nothing if not persistent. "The Hordes are not as they once were," she said while falling into step behind him. "The Burning Legion was responsible for the fall of the Orcs into such a degraded state on their home world of Draenor. But under Thrall they have sought to throw off the influence of the Legion and reclaim their lost heritage." 

Gorn simply shook his head in disbelief. In many ways the Idea of an Orcish Horde not bent on destruction and carnage was just as difficult to accept as a Burning Legion that was not just a child's tale. "I met the fury of Horde on the plains of Quen'quellas. They were as ruthless and bloodthirsty a people as I have ever seen in my life." He cut a sideways glance at the Night Elf that still somehow seemed to be keeping pace with his larger stride. Annoyed at her persistence, he increased his pace. "I refuse to believe that they could have possibly changed so significantly in just a twenty year period." 

She had been forced to break into a jog now to keep up with him, he noticed with some pleasure. Yet, she remained far from discouraged. "You are correct, they have not completely changed their ways, not yet. That is why they need your help more than ever right now." 

"I fail to see the logic behind that statement," he rumbled, without even sparing a backward glance this time. He didn't want to encourage her any more than he already had. 

Unfortunately, she apparently needed little to no encouragement from him. "Don't you see? Right now they are in a transition period. They are at a crossroads, desperately trying to find their way." With a effortless grace that seemed almost obscene, the Night Elf increase her pace to a loping run and pulled in front of him. A split second later she had come to a sudden halt in front of him blocking his path. "Thrall is young and Idealistic, but he needs the wisdom of experience to guide him in leading the Horde. Experience that hasn't come from being a former member of the Shadow Council, which right now is all he has at his disposal." 

Gorn briefly considered just trampling the annoying woman under his hooves. "So I am supposed to convince the elders of the tribes to ally themselves to the Horde, teach them the ways of honor, and guide their Chieftain in ruling over his people all because some Night Elf claims that this young Orc is trying to regain his lost heritage." It was almost enough to make him break down into fits of laughter again, if his side didn't still hurt from doing so just a few moments ago. Instead he settled for shaking his mane disdainfully. "You truly are an interesting one Night Elf." 

"Of course I do not expect you to accomplish all these feats based on my word alone. That would be foolish." For a moment Gorn thought that she might have been conceding. "That is why I have come to take you to meet Thrall for yourself. Then you can decide whether or not you should convince your people to ally themselves to his cause." 

Then with that statement, she simply turned on her heal and left him there with his maw hanging wide open. It took a moment to recover from his shock and catch back up with her. "Now see here, Night Elf. From the moment we met you have presumed far too much." She didn't seem to be paying him any mind though, which just served to infuriate him even more. "I cannot just drop everything and take upon myself a journey to the Ancestors know where…" 

"Khaz Modan." She interrupted. 

"What?" 

"Khaz Modan, that is where we will be going." There seemed to be no question in her voice about the fact that he would be accompanying her. "The latest reports from our scouts have places his entourage in that area." 

This conversation was quickly heading in a direction that he had never intended. "Yes, but you are missing my point completely. I cannot just leave my responsibilities for some foolhardy quest better left to the young and reckless." 

"This is the kind of quest that the young and reckless should have no part of," was her swift response. Gorn was left wondering why he suddenly felt like he was on the losing side of this conversation. "A young and reckless bull would sooner kill Thrall for some meaningless trophy then gain an accurate impression of him. And other brooding in your solitude what responsibilities do have to speak of." 

"I have warned you not to mock me," Gorn growled angrily. But he knew that he was quickly running out of arguments. "I still have the graves of my family to tend…" 

"Taken care of." She cut him off again. The Night Elf was beginning to make a habit of doing so. "No moss, weeds, or any other form of grass will intrude upon your families resting place in your absence. And before you start bellowing about me desecrating your family's resting grounds by casting some spell, let me assure you that I did no such thing. I simply communed with the plant life in the area, explained the situation to them, and out of their respect for you, not me, they agreed to leave the graves of your family in peace until your return." 

In prior points of his life, whenever Gorn had ever experienced moments of uncertainty, he had resorted to pure stubbornness to get him through the situation. Generally, the strategy had worked fairly well for him, so he saw no reason to change now. Coming to a stop, he said firmly, "I'm not going, Night Elf." 

She must have heard the resolution in his voice, because she stopped and turned to face him with an almost pleading look in her eyes. That fact alone shocked him more than almost anything else she had said or done thus far. She studied him for a moment longer and Gorn once again could feel the hairs on his snout standing on end. When she finally did speak again he voice carried a note of reverence that he did not initially understand. "I didn't come to you for your name alone, Gorn Blackhoff. Truth be told there are probably many Tauren Chieftains who possess enough sway with the tribes to accomplish the same task." 

"Then why did you come to me?" there was no impatience in his question, only curiosity. 

"Because of what you did at the battle of Mimnock," responded. 

Gorn cocked his head in confusion and searched his memories of that battle to determine what he had done at Mimnock that was so much more exceptional then his other campaigns. Mimnock had been a small village of Ogres that had been relying on plunder as the primary source of their income. A caravan of Taurens had been attacked an slaughtered by a group of Ogres in the provinces of the town. The Chieftains had immediately demanded retribution and he had been selected to lead the retaliatory force. Their approaching army had been spotted and were met outside of the small town by a delegation carrying a flag of truce. The residents of Mimnock had fiercely denied any involvement with the attack despite the evidence to the contrary. To this day Gorn wasn't certain why, but he had felt deep within his gut that these Ogres were telling the truth. It had almost cost him his command, but instead of wiping out the village in retaliation, he had ordered his army northward. A few days later they had found a detachment of Ogre Deserters from the Horde along the Mimnock River. The battle had been particularly brutal and many of the Ogres had escaped. But, when the day was over, none could deny that they had found the true murderers. 

"You saw into the hearts of those Ogres that day and saved many innocent lives." She must have seen his confused expression. The purple-skinned woman studied him for a few more moments before sighing quietly. "To be perfectly honest, I am not entirely certain of the nobility of this Thrall. For all I know he could actually be the next Orgrim Doomhammer. That is why I need you to meet him. Your noble spirit has shown itself capable of discerning the truth in the past. I need to confirm the reports that I have received and determine if he truly is trying to make the Orcs into a noble people once again. If he is a deceiver, then our task is clear." For some reason Gorn found that he could not tear his gaze away from her pleading eyes. "But if he truly is what the Orcs claim him to be, then you are the only Tauren that I would trust to determine the joint fates of your people." 

Gorn was genuinely conflicted now. And the morning had been a perfectly normal one as well. "I still don't understand. If your people truly believe that Thrall could be a tool for turning the Horde against the Burning Legion, then why do they not handle it personally?" 

The Elvin woman shook her head ruefully staring off into the rising sun. "I told you, Gorn Blackhoff. My views are not shared by the majority of my people." When she looked back at him her eyes were full of sadness. "I could not dissuade them from an alliance with the Centaurs and I could not convince them that the Orcs were capable of redemption." 

Gorn wanted to accuse her of lying about her feelings on the Centaur alliance. He desperately wanted to, but that same gut instinct that had prevented him from slaughtering a village of ogres now prevented him making his accusation. "Damn you woman, was a few remaining years of peace after a life filled with conflict and suffering too much to ask?" 

"It always is Noble Chieftain," she responded sadly. "It always is." 

And like that, the decision had been made for him, if there had ever truly been a decision to make in the first place. "We will need to return to my home and gather some supplies." 

She nodded. "Remember, we will travel light." 

Gorn turned to face the graves of his wife, brother, son one last time, wondering briefly if the next time that he would see them would be at their rebirth. At that moment, another thought finally occurred to him. "What do I call you Knight Elf?" 

Another brief silence stretch between them before her reply came like a whisper on the wind. "Call me Cirra. Cirra Syliosteel."   
  
End Part 1   
-una scimmia mangia una banana ogni mezz'ora 


End file.
